


Friends Don't

by Katybug1992



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 21:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18903013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katybug1992/pseuds/Katybug1992
Summary: Friends don't do the things that Spot and Race do.





	Friends Don't

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Friends Don't by Maddie and Tae

Sean Conlon and Anthony Higgins were friends.  Best friends. That’s all. Despite what the rest of the world thought.  They were close.

_They don't cancel other plans._

Racer opened the door, not expecting to see Spot standing there, hands in his pockets.

“I thought you had plans with Tommy tonight.” Race stated, looking away to attempt to hide the redness.

“I cancelled.” Spot shrugged, shouldering into the apartment and ushering the taller boy back to his blanket nest.

“Why?” Racer asked, ignoring the ease at which Spot got him settled back in.

“Because my best friend just got his heart broken,” Spot replied, settling down next to Racer in the nest and pulling him close, “and I couldn’t go out and have a good time knowing that you were shut up in your apartment probably on your third viewing of ‘Titanic’.”

“My second viewing.” the blonde quietly corrected, eyes on the screen.

“Have you eaten?” the brunette murmured, rested his head on the blonde’s.

“No,” Race minutely shook his head, “haven’t been hungry.”

“Okay,” Spot replied, pulling his phone from his pocket and calling the Chinese restaurant on the corner.

They watched the movie and ate in silence, Spot allowing Racer the time he needed to wallow, until Racer’s eyes got too heavy to keep open.  As he drifted off to sleep, he muttered, “Thank you, Sean”.

“Always, Tony,” Spot replied, turning off the tv, unable to watch the ship sink for a second time, and made himself comfortable on the couch and holding his best friend close.  Eventually, he would move him to his bed, but only once he was sure moving him wouldn’t wake him.

_Have conversations with nothing but their eyes_

Spot and Race had know each other for a long time.  There was no one in the world who knew the them as well as they did.  They could reach each other as easily as they could a children’s book.  And because of this, Race knew when Jack had moved from just grating on Spot’s nerves to pissing him off.

Jumping in, he grabbed Spot’s arm to get his attention, giving him a look telling him to cool it.

‘He started it!’ Spot’s expression shot back at him.

‘I know,’ Race raised his hands and tilted his head.

‘You need to get him away from me.’ Spot glared.

‘On it.’ Race grinned.

“Jack!” Race called, throwing the football to him and taking off running, the slightly older male running after him.

Spot watched fondly as Racer caught the football and then was promptly tackled by Jack, their younger siblings piling on top of them as Crutchie tried to get them all off, fully aware that while Racer was the tallest, he was definitely the smallest and most easy to crush.  Smalls and Romeo were loudly objecting, stating that they had been tackling Racer since they got to Medda’s house when they were five.

_They don't hear each other's names and forget to concentrate_

_Hits a nerve and lights you up like dynamite_

“Higgins shot me down again,” a voice drew Spot out of his head, willingness to focus on his term paper gone at the mention of his best friend’s name.

Looking in the direction of the voices, he saw the Delancey brothers pulling books from the shelves, obviously there for the same reason everyone else was.

Oscar was the one the voice came from.  Spot would recognize it anywhere. He had had to witness, either in person or overheard, the other boy hit on and ask Racer out for the past four years.  Racer was always quick to shut him down, but it never seemed to stick.

“Kelly still fucking him?” Morris asked.

Spot saw red briefly.  Race had every right to turn down anyone he wanted, regardless of whether or not he was seeing someone else at the time, and he could date or sleep with whoever he wanted.  But the thought of him falling into bed with Jack Kelly made Spot furious. His best friend could do so much better than Kelly. He needed someone who was just as ambitious as he was, just as driven and down to earth.  

After a moment, he shook himself out of it, reasoning with himself that it didn’t mean anything.  He knew that Racer wasn’t sleeping with anyone, much less Jack Kelly - who was basically Racer’s older brother.

He tried to focus on his paper again, but it was no good.  He packed up his bag and headed to Racer’s dorm room, ignoring Jack as he entered and settled down on Racer’s bed, eyes slipping shut as Race started petting his hair while proofreading Jack’s essay.

_Friends don't call you in the middle of the night_

_Couldn't even tell you why_

_They just felt like saying "hi"_

“ ‘lo?” Spot mumbled, answering his phone in part to stop the loud ringtone from blaring, recognizing it as Racer’s ringtone before he was even fully awake, “You okay, Tones?”

“I’m on my home from Jack’s,” Race replied on the other end, sounded completely exhausted, “Haven’t talked to you today.  Did I wake you?”

“Naw,” Spot denied, knowing that Racer would see right through it, “Wasn’t feeling great today.  I think I caught that bug Jack had last week. Naturally, I blame you. I wouldn’t have been there if you hadn’t cooked too much food for him and needed me to help you carry it all over to his place.”

“I’ll be by tomorrow with medicine and groceries,” Race replied automatically, “cook you up a full sick-man’s feast.”

“Soup and crackers?” Spot scoffed.

“The fancy crackers and homemade soup.” Racer corrected, smile easily heard in his voice, “And some ginger ale if you’re lucky.”

“I missed you today.” Spot replied

“Same,” Racer replied, “Sorry I couldn’t text you as often today.  Jack was being needy and melodramatic, an unfortunate combination.”

“Poor baby.” Spot replied, voice fond and scratchy.

“I’ll let you sleep.” Race’s voice was equally fond, “I’ll see you in the morning with food, meds, and movies.”

“I swear to God, Racer, if you bring Titanic with you. . . You hung up already, didn’t you?” Spot huffed out a laugh and hung up the phone, easily falling back to sleep, a soft smile on his face.

_Friends don't stand around, playing with their keys_

_Finding reasons not to leave_

_Trying to hide the chemistry_

Spot stood near the door of Racer’s apartment, keys in hand but not at all eager to leave.  Everyone else had left already, hours ago, and Spot kept finding reasons to prolong his departure.  First he helped Racer pick up the trash, then pack up the leftovers, then do the dishes, took out the trash.  

Now there was nothing left to do, and the two of them stood there just chatting, ignoring the slight awkwardness that had developed after Katherine had made them partners for a Newlywed Game-esque activity, which they then dominated, not even needing to think for a second before answering the questions correctly.  She had declared them the Most Perfect Couple, commenting on their natural chemistry, the flawless way they always seemed to move around each other.

“I know you don’t really like my friends,” Racer leaned against the wall, “but thank you for coming tonight.”

“I don’t have to like your friends,” Spot shrugged, “you asking me was enough.”

“Still,” Race grinned, “I’m proud of you for not letting Jack goad you tonight.”

“I think he’s like an infectious disease.” Spot replied, “Spend enough time around him, you build up an immunity.”

Race threw his head back and laughed at the comment, making a note to pass it along to Jack.

“So…” Spot trailed off, wincing at the time, “I should probably head out, let you get some sleep.  We still on for our movie day tomorrow?”

“Always.” Racer grinned, “If you wanted...I mean, you’re coming back over in a couple hours anyway….and you have a drawer of your stuff here anyway...if you wanted, you could spend the night?”

“Sounds practical,” Spot grinned, “gives us both a little more time to sleep.”

Race grinned as Spot set his keys back in the key bowl by the door and followed him into the bedroom.  

They changed in silence and Spot wrapped his arms around Racer the way he had been doing all their lives, both falling asleep easier than they would have separately.

_Drive a little too slow, take the long way home_

When Racer got in over his head, had no tIke to breathe, Spot borrowed a car from a friend of his and planned out a camping weekend, just the two of them, to get Racer out of the city and drama that he had gotten pulled into.  No matter how many times Spot told him that he should just avoid the drama, his friend just couldn’t. It was in his nature to be a peacekeeper and it was a role that he played often. So when he had five different friends all not talking to each other and was playing messenger between the two of them, in addition to Jack and Katherine breaking up again, Spot knew a kidnapping was necessary, on top of managing the dance studio.  So he arranged for Albert to take over the Studio for a view days and picked up Racer.

The weekend was perfect.  They had spent it hiking, cooking over a fire, stargazing, and talking about everything but Racer’s friend drama.  Now, they were on their way back to the city, neither really wanting the weekend to end. Spot was definitely going the lower range of the speed limit.  When they finally pulled to a stop in front of Racer’s building, they sat there in silence for a minute before Racer leaned over and threw his arms around Spot, hugging him tightly and muttering his thank you, before forcing himself to get out of the car before he did something stupid like kiss his best friend.  Because that’s all they were. Friends.

_Get a little too close_

_We do, but friends don't_

The two were pressed tightly together on the dance floor, Spot having pulled Racer flush against him, back to front.  Despite their height difference, they fit together perfectly. Spot was too busy marveling at that to notice his jeans getting tighter as they danced together.  When he did notice, he dropped his head onto Racer’s back, letting out a groan.

“You okay there, Spottie?” Racer smirked, obviously feeling Spot’s problem.

“Shut up.” Spot growled, grip tightening and smirking at the grasp that escaped the blonde.

He instantly regretted it when it dawned on him what game he started with his very competitive friend.  Still, he didn’t move away; just steeled himself for the retaliation.

_They don't almost say "I love you"_

_When they're downtown somewhere, just a little drunk_

Racer stumbled over to Spot, more than a little tipsy off of the free drinks that had been sent his way all night.  As he fit himself under Spot’s arm, the shorter man could not help but send a smirk to the disappointed men whose gazes were fixed on the leggy blonde under his arm.

“Hey, Spottie,” Race grinned up at him, “Sean, I gotta secret.”

“Yeah?” Spot smirked down at Race, amusement in his tone, “And what’s that, Tony?

“I lov-You’re my best friend.” Racer replied, “Only one who cares.”

“I’m not the only person who cares about you.” Spot gently reminded him.  Racer sometimes needed that. Needed to know that even though he took care of everyone, he had people who cared a lot about him as well.  People who weren’t just Spot.

“Yeah,” Race nodded, “Albie and Jack try, but they have their own shit, you know?  You’re the only one who always answers the phone when I call, no matter what. Know I’ve interrupted a few dates but you still always come over to pick up all my broken pieces.  You’re my favorite.”

“You’re always my number one.” Spot replied, turning to hide his face in Racer’s hair, not wanted a room full of strangers to see his all the emotions he felt for this boy painted so plainly on his face.

Once the moment had passed, he spent the evening enjoying tipsy Racer and glaring fiercely at anyone who dared approach the pair.

_They don't talk about the future and put each other in it_

“Where do you want to be in ten years?” Spot asked Racer.  They were both drunk on the two bottles of wine they had consumed with the dinner Racer had cooked and had a movie playing quietly in the background.

“Wherever you are.” Racer answered honestly, never able to lie to Spot.

“And if I decided to go live in Antarctica?” Spot raised an eyebrow.

“Then it would be you, me, and the penguins, Spottie!” Racer grinned over at him.

“Can’t exactly teach dance there, love.” Spot chuckled.

“Of course, I can.” Race scoffed, “I know you’ve seen ‘Happy Feet’!”

Spot just nodded thoughtfully, Racer’s logic making sense to his wine drunk mind.

_And get chills with every accidental touch_

Racer shivered as Spot’s hand brushed against his as they walked down the street, snow gently falling.  Spot looked over at him, eyes asking, “You cold?”

Racer shook his head in answer to the question, which was ignored by Spot, who pulled him closer to him and took his scarf off, wrapping it around Racer neck, both of them ignoring the fact that they froze at the closeness.  A car honking broke their spell and they went back to pretending like the moment didn’t happen.

_I keep telling myself this might be nothing_

_But one look in your eyes and, God, there's something_

_You can lie to me and say you don't_

_But I know you do, and I love you too_

Spot looked over at Racer, who was bustling around his kitchen making dinner for their movie night, the DVD menu for fucking Titanic on the TV screen.  He didn’t know why the blonde loved the movie so much but there is no one else that Spot would ever watch a movie he hated a thousand times over for.

“Here you go!” Racer handed the bowl of pasta to him, “Pasta della Dispensa.”

Spot snorted out a laugh. Pasta of the Pantry.  Only Racer would be able to throw random ingredients together and have it turn out edible.  He reached over for the bottle of white that he brought with him, pouring Racer a glass and topping his own off.  He also wasn’t a wine person, but Racer was so he happily drank it. Going so far as to take a class to learn all the things about wine that Racer knew, growing up with Medda who insisted that he know everything he wanted to in relation to his Italian heritage.

They were halfway through the movie when Spot looked over at Racer, who was doing a really good job at pretending to be watching the movie, their dishes sitting on the coffee table next to half empty wine glasses.

“I think we need to talk about this,” Spot spoke, turning to face Racer fully.

“I know, you don’t like this movie,” Racer put on his mask, “but it’s the best movie James Cameron has ever made and will ever make.  Avatar was a rip off of Pocahontas. Do you even remember anything from that movie besides blue people?”

“Tony,” Spot huffed out, trying to hide his amusement, “I’m being serious.”

“I know,” Race replied, “that’s why I tried to deflect.”

“I know.” Spot smiled softly, “I love you.”

“Sean -” the blonde avert his gaze, looking down.

“No,” Spot replied, tilting Racer’s chin up back up, “You are my favorite human.  You’re it for me. I love you.”

Race took a minute before reaching over and turning the TV off.  Turning to the shorter man, he said, “I love you, too.”

At those words, Spot pulled Racer to him, kissing him heatedly and grinning into the kiss as Race let out a moan and kissed him back.

“Dishes…” Race tried to say as they broke the kiss and Spot attacked his neck.

“In the morning.” Spot growled out.

“Okay.” Race gave in, pulling Spot back to his mouth.

After several more minutes, Racer pulled Spot toward his bedroom, both of them stumbling as they tried to move without detaching from each other.

_Friends don't_

“Morning,” Spot greeted as Racer’s eyes fluttered open in the morning.

“Morning.” Racer grinned over at him.

“How are you feeling?” Spot asked, “Sore?”

“I like it.” Race replied, “I feel perfect.”

“I love you, Tony.”

“I love you, Sean.”


End file.
